


As the Tide Falls

by mylifeisitalic



Category: Original Work
Genre: Asian Character(s), Fantasy, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Gods, Maybe Romance, Mythology References, i'll add more tags as i go along
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2020-01-16
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:32:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21763798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mylifeisitalic/pseuds/mylifeisitalic
Summary: For the girl living alone in the mountains, life is always the same: hunting, trapping, cooking, sleeping, repeat. She has no family, no friends, not even a name. It's just her, the mountain, the sky, and the ocean. Until one day a stranger arrives and her cyclical life is thrown out of order, ancient gods awakening and a war looming over her head that will cleave the very skies and seas apart.
Kudos: 2





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This story is an idea that I've had for a while, and I still don't know where it's heading. I'll do my best to finish it, though ;)

_Two sisters ran laughing down the narrow streets of their village. They each carried a red bean bun and wolfed the treat down as they dashed for the hilltop. The elder scaled the peach tree at the top of the hill fluidly, as if she had done so hundreds of times. The younger giggled and shrieked with giddiness, clumsily climbing after her sister._

_The elder sister climbed nimbly upwards toward the tallest branch, as her sister pouted and whined for her to slow down. When they both reached the top, the elder put an arm around her sister to steady her as they both caught their breath._

_The sun was setting over the curved rooftops of their peaceful village, setting the sky aflame with rose and peach. The two sisters watched silently, counting the gold-dusted clouds drifting idly by._

_“Look,” the elder pointed at the sky. “You can almost see the stars.”_

_They looked on in silence, admiring the distant pinpricks of light._

_“Why do the stars blink?” the younger asked._

_The elder grinned. “That’s a great story. Grandmother used to tell me that legend every day before bed.”_

_“Why didn’t she ever tell me?” the younger pouted._

_“You weren’t born yet, silly,” the elder said, rolling her eyes._

_Lowering her voice, the older sister said, “Legend says that the sky and the sea used to be sisters, but they were cleaved apart by an ancient, mighty god, who feared their united power. The stars flicker because that is the sky’s way of talking to the sea, and the sea is pulled into tides by the moon, who wishes to pull her closer.”_

_The younger girl pondered this for a moment. “But if they were so powerful, why couldn’t they just beat that dumb god up instead of being separated?”_

_Rolling her eyes again, the older sister said, “I don’t know, it’s just a legend, okay?”_

_“Hmm… Jiě, would you rather be the sky or the sea?”_

_“The sky, duh. I would be able to see the stars and sun and moon all the time. It’d be great,” remarked the elder, wistfully.  
“Then I will be the sea, and we will not let any force on earth separate us,” the younger announced, with all the certainty only a young child could have. _

_Her sister grinned playfully. “Stuck with you all my life? Gods, that’d be a nightmare.”_

_“Hey!”_

_The two raced each other back to their house, blissfully unaware that they were being watched._


	2. PART 1: MIST Chapter 1: Does it Ever Get Lonely

She prowled through the forest silently, eyes sharp and wary. She held in her hands a glinting metal knife, sharp as the winter wind. Five more were sheathed on her belt.

She listened to the sounds around her. Gurgling water. Rustling leaves. Whispering autumn wind. It all blended into a soothing harmony, almost lulling her to sleep. But she knew this sort of quiet. It was the quiet before something momentous happened. She treaded lightly, all her senses heightened.

Towering pine trees. Light fog. Dead, dry leaves littering the forest floor.

Fresh leaves. Pine needles. A dusty, earthy smell. The smell of decay.

Rushing water. Rustling leaves. Whispering wind.

A twig snapped.

Senses kicking into overdrive, she positioned herself so that the wind would not give away her scent. She pulled another knife from her belt and crouched in a clump of bushes.

The source of the sound was a young buck, cautiously picking his way through the forest. He was plump with his steady diet of summer grass, and his antlers were not yet full grown. They were velvety and not particularly threatening, but if he were to charge at her she had no doubt they would _hurt_.

He made his way to the small sprinkling of salt she had scattered on the ground earlier, and delicately licked at it. She felt a twinge of sympathy as she observed him. He was so young and fresh. Perhaps she should leave him be and check if her snares had caught anything.

Perhaps.

She knew hunger would morph her sympathy into greed. Especially with the cold weather coming.

She took aim with her throwing knife, but just before she could let her knife fly, the deer startled. He lifted his head, looking at his surroundings with a newfound fear. She frowned slightly. She was sure she hadn’t made a sound, which could only mean that the buck sensed some other threat.

The musky smell hit her the same time it hit the young deer, and he bolted. But not fast enough. The mountain lion pounced from its hiding place, digging its claws into the buck’s haunch. It reared in terror and attempted to butt the lion with its antlers. A pitiful attempt. The lion snarled and sank its teeth into the deer’s hind leg. It cried out in pain, going down. Sensing victory, the mountain lion roared and bit viciously into the deer’s throat. It went still.

Swallowing, the girl hidden in the bushes observed the preening lion. Its coat was a glossy, thick tan. It, clearly, would have no trouble surviving in the harsh weathers yet to come. The girl grimaced as she readied herself to throw the knife. She hated to bring down such a beautiful creature, but its warm fur coat would be invaluable to her during the winter.

Her knife left her hand faster than a shooting star, hurtling for the lion’s eye.

Sensing the change in air pressure, it leapt backwards, but the knife still imbedded itself in its shoulder. The predator roared in agony.

She leapt out of the bushes, taking up a fighting stance, more knives in hand. The lion arched its back, snarling at her. She hissed back.

The two hunters circled each other, each refusing to break eye contact, refusing to blink. The fallen deer lay between them, the prize they both fought for.

The lion lunged first, claws out, teeth flashing. The girl knew she could not dodge its first attack, and she was right. It slashed its claws across her shoulder, but she merely gritted her teeth and let herself be thrown backwards.

The mountain lion now lay on top of her. Its hot, rancid breath hit her face, and its sharp incisors were _so_ close to gouging out her eyes. She did not balk, though, and flicked her knife from out of her sleeve and stabbed it into the lion’s side. It whimpered, and she shoved its body off of her. Her hand was now coated in blood. She panted as she assessed the wounded lion.

It let out a pained sound, prompting her to put it out of its misery. After catching her breath, she assessed its wounds.

The fur surrounding the wounds was soaked in blood. She would have to cut it off. All in all, not a bad kill. The coat was salvageable. She then took in the deer. His throat was a mangled, bloody mess, his leg not much better off. Nevertheless, he would provide her a week’s worth of food, the lion too.

After evaluating her prey, she then assessed her shoulder. The claw marks weren’t that deep, although they were oozing blood. She withdrew some moss that she kept in her hunting pack and bound her wound tightly. She would see to it when she got back home.

Eyes flitting up to the setting sun, she pursed her lips in annoyance. She had to get both carcasses back to her tree house before the sun set, or risk getting ambushed by some hungry predator. Swiftly cutting off some of the more gory, unsalvageable parts of both animals, she left them on the ground, hoping the scent of blood would distract the more unsavory predators.

* * *

Dumping both carcasses on the ground beside her home, the girl allowed herself a bit of time to catch her breath.

The setting sun cast rays of husky golden light flickering the treetops. It danced in golden sheathes on the dead leaves scattered on the floor, their color muted with autumn.

Quietly, she closed her eyes. Felt the world around her shift and hum and whisper. Sensed the bugs and small critters, quietly going about their day. There was a certain beauty in autumn. The beauty of dead things. The beauty of the quiet die-down of summer before the cruelty of winter hit.

Opening her eyes, she dragged the deer onto the pulley system she had rigged up to transport large items up to her tree house. The base consisted of several logs bound together by sturdy dry vines. She had braided the vines together to create sturdy ropes, then attached the wooden platform to a system of winches and levers.

Turning the winch, she lifted the deer up to the receiving area in her tree house, then scaled the tree using the several pegs she’d drove into the trunk to help her climb.

After moving both carcasses into her tree house, she set to work skinning and gutting them. She set aside the deer hide and lion furs, the former to use in making shoes and the latter to make winter clothes and blankets.

She carefully cut the hunks of meat off the bones and hung them up to dry. She would eat a small portion today, then preserve the majority for later.

She also took out the greens and fruits she’d gathered earlier in the day and laid them out to dry. Together with the meat, they’d make a fairly tasty stew for supper.

Letting herself sigh softly, she walked out of the house onto her balcony, of sorts. This high up, she could see above most of the treetops and far into the distance. The trees to her south sloped downwards; that was where her mountain ended.

Her mountain.

This was where she called home, for as long as she could remember. She did not remember a father or mother figure, or any family whatsoever. It was only her.

Gazing at the sun, flaring brightly one last time, she took in the indigo-mauve color of the sky above. She could almost make out the stars.

She also took note of the heavy-looking clouds rolling in from the southeast. The wind was blowing from that direction, so they would probably arrive at the mountain during the night.

She took a deep breath in and out.

A storm was coming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wish me luck~


	3. Chapter 2: Caught Deep in the Eye of the Storm

The sound of thunder woke her.

She had been running in her dreams. She was always running.

But this time it had been different. In all her previous dreams, she could only feel the solid ground beneath her feet, the steady weight of her knives, and her steady pants as she ran endlessly. The air was always clear and crisp, the smell of pine tinged with earth. The smell of her mountain.

This dream was smoky, hazy, almost as if there had been a fire. It burned her lungs going in and exhaling was just as bad. She tried crying out, screaming for someone, which was odd because she never had a voice. And who would she call out for? Who or what was she running from?

The girl on the mountain didn’t know, but she did know that she was always running, while hunting, while gathering, and in her dreams.

She sat up so fast her head spun. Her blankets of fur and tree fiber had tangled around her feet. She was sweaty and shivering, and was dimly aware that one of her knives had found its way into her hand, as it always did when she had nightmares.

Another clap of thunder shook her from her senses. She silently got out of bed and padded over to the door. She cracked it open and looked outside.

The sky was a miraculous shade of indigo and mauve, swirled with shadows and storm clouds. The air was static with that energy that only a thunderstorm could evoke. The earth gave off that scent that meant pending rain. It was beautiful. Wild and untamable and alive and beautiful.

The whole mountain was illuminated with a jagged flash of lightning, striking right at the peak of the mountain.

She might have been afraid. Afraid that her wooden house might catch fire from a lightning strike, or that lightning would strike one of the trees and start a forest fire. If it weren’t for the fact that she had experienced lightning storms on the mountain before. The lightning always struck the top of the mountain. Nowhere else. She had been to the peak before to try and examine what there was that attracted the lightning, but she couldn’t find anything of significance there. Except for a circular patch of barren ground, void of trees or grass or shrubs, there was nothing out of the ordinary. That seemed like the area the lightning always struck. She had circled the area, trying to find anything special. In the end, she merely concluded that perhaps the rocks there contained an abundance of metal, which attracted the lightning.

The girl slowly unbraided her hair. She took a comb she had carved herself and started brushing out her lengthy black hair. It had gotten tangled from thrashing around, and brushing it was a challenge. Nevertheless, she went through the repetitive motions again and again, trying to calm her racing heart.

As lightning flashed outside, illuminating the dark pine trees, and thunder shook the mountain, the raven-haired girl sharpened her knives. She counted all six, then went to work sharpening them.

Lightning crackled.

Thunder rumbled.

Her knife flashed silver as she ran it over the whetstone.

One beat of her heart.

Lightning.

Thunder.

Flash of the knife.

Beat.

Flash of the knife.

Beat.

Flash of the knife.

Lightning.

Beat.

Thunder.

She knew she should sleep, should conserve her energy for tomorrow, which would be another day of hunting and gathering and preparing for the winter, but she couldn’t bring herself to close her eyes. Couldn’t risk being dragged into those nightmares again.

And so, she carefully, methodically sharpened her knives as the storm raged on outside.

Sometime later she heard a gentle drumming on her roof, and the sweet smell of rain wafted towards her nose.

She laid a bucket outside to gather some rainwater for drinking and bathing and returned to her small treehouse. She chewed some dried berries just to give her mouth something to do as she carefully polished her six knives, letting her heartbeat slow to beat in time with the drumming rain.

Once she was satisfied with her knives, she laid them on the stump next to her bed, just within reach. She sat down on her bed and started meticulously re-braiding her long hair.

As she lay in bed, she stared up at the ceiling of her house as she tried to remember more details about her nightmare. But thinking about it made her uneasy, so she pushed it from her mind and tried to get some sleep.

Just as she was drifting into unconsciousness, she saw the full moon, casting its milky rays down onto the forest. It bathed everything in a silver glow, and her knives seemed to glow bright in the moonlight. The carvings on their handles seemed to glow with hidden light. But that was just her seeing things as she drifted off.

Quiet breathing filled her small hut. Trees rustled outside. The wind whispered softly as the rain slowly stopped, leaving the tree leaves to drip now and then. Night birds cooed softly to one another. The moon continued to beam down on the mountain.

A moon-pale hand materialized and tucked the blankets more securely over the sleeping girl. The hand hesitated before softly brushing over the girl’s silky black hair. The sleeping girl seemed to relax under the touch. The woman the hand belonged to smiled a little. She took in the life the girl had carved for herself. The orderly cabin. The stores of meat and fruit for the winter. The six knives that seemed to gleam brighter in the woman’s presence.

The silver silks the woman wore rustled slightly as she bent down and pressed her lips to the girl’s temple.

_“Sleep soundly, child. The nightmares shan’t find you again tonight.”_

As the rising sun cast its first golden rays onto the tired mountain, the woman evaporated into mist. The knives stopped glowing as the first buttery shafts of light found their way into the cabin. And the girl slept on. Unaware.

Today was a new day.


	4. Chapter 3: Is There Someone Out There

Growing frustrated, the raven-haired girl ran after the buck, brushing past branches and bushes. She had been tracking it for over half the day now, determined to catch it. It was the biggest buck she had ever seen, and her mouth watered at the thought of all the meat it could provide. Every time it seemed that she would catch it, some sound or scent caused it to bolt. It even managed to evade all the snares she set for it. _Clever, aren’t you?_

Thankfully, it seemed to be running down the mountain instead of up. It was much less tiring to run down rather than run against gravity. She was a bit concerned that she might end up lost, but she had lived on the mountain for her whole life. Surely, she could find her way back.

Steadying herself before she slipped off a narrow ledge, she silently cursed the rain storm from the night before. It was hard enough keeping her footing on the winding trails of a sloping mountain; she didn’t need it to be even more slippery.

Pausing for breath behind a bush, the girl scowled to herself. Perhaps she should find another target. Although she was a fairly fast runner, the buck far outpaced her. Her only hope was to wait by one of her snares, hoping the buck would fall for it.

The slight crunch of dead leaves brought her attention back to her surroundings. She readied her throwing knives. That buck wouldn’t get away this time.

_Crunch. Crunch._ A muttered curse.

The girl’s eyes widened. _Deer definitely couldn’t swear_. Listening closely, she could tell it wasn’t the gait of a four-legged creature making the noise. That qi aura wasn’t one of an animal’s either. It was too complex, too bright. _A human_ , she thought, a chill running down her spine. _Fight or flight. Fight or flight._ She weighed her options, holding her breath.

The brush she was hiding behind was loudly swung at. Flying into motion, she leapt backwards before the other person could attack her.

She could only make out the form of a surprised female, around her own age, before her knife left her hand.

Cursing again and dodging the knife ( _Incredible reflexes,_ she thought), the other girl put her hands up in a placating gesture.

“Whoa, calm down. I’m not trying to hurt you,” she said slowly. Not taking her eyes off the tense raven-haired girl, she slowly stooped down to pick up the fallen knife.

“Here, I’ll even give you your knife back.” The other girl cautiously handed the knife to her, blade pointed towards herself.

The black-haired girl accepted the knife, but was still on guard. She quickly took note of the crossbow, scythe, and three knives hooked into her belt. The other girl was dressed in sturdy-looking leather armor, but there were several chinks where her knives could hit flesh. Her curly hazel hair was tied back in a braid. _If push comes to shove, I could always pull her hair as a distraction,_ thought the first girl.

The two were at a stalemate. The black-haired girl didn’t breathe, ready to react at any second. Her mind was whirling. No one had ever come to the mountain before.

“What business do you have on this mountain?” the other girl asked. She didn’t make a move for her weapons.

It wasn’t like she could answer even if she wanted to, so the raven-haired girl merely inched a step back, eyes never leaving her opponent.

“Were you sent by a neighboring tribe?” the hazel-haired girl tried again.

Silence.

“Listen, I don’t care if you’re part of another tribe or something, I’m just here to gather some materials and be on my way. I promise I’ll be gone soon. So…” the other girl’s red eyes darted around nervously, hands gesturing wildly, as if to convey her message.

Warily, the black-haired girl tilted her head to the side. Her hands didn’t leave her knives. The other girl seemed sincere, but she wasn’t taking her chances. Perhaps she, like the black-haired girl, was very good at hiding emotion and restraining her qi.

“Are you mute or are you just unwilling to answer?”

The black-haired girl hesitated before tapping her throat.

“Oh, that explains a lot,” the other girl offered a half smile. “Well, do you at least know sign language-”

A rustle came from the surrounding bush. Both girls turned swiftly, pulling weapons from their belts. The startled buck froze for a moment, but that was all it took. The raven-haired girl’s knife sunk into the junction between its shoulder and neck, and it yelped and took off. Not wasting a second, the two girls ran after it.

After just a minute of running, the black-haired girl knew the buck was too far away for her knife to hit.

_Whoosh!_ The buck went down with a cry as a crossbow bolt buried itself into his neck. Jogging to his side, the raven-haired girl pulled her knife and the bolt out. It was a clean hit to his carotid artery.

Slightly out of breath, the second girl caught up to her.

“Gods, you run fast. Maybe even faster than that brother of mine,” she chuckled breathily.

Watching her warily, the black-haired girl handed the crossbow bolt back to the other girl.

“Oh, thanks. I only brought six of those with me, wouldn’t want to lose one.”

Begrudgingly, the black-haired girl gestured to the fallen deer, then pointed to the other girl.

She caught on. Her eyes widened. “Oh, no, I don’t need a whole deer. I couldn’t take it with me even if I wanted to. You keep it. You were tracking it, weren’t you?”

The raven-haired girl shook her head firmly. As much as she needed the deer, she couldn’t steal someone else’s kill.

“Oh, come on. I really don’t need it,” the hazel-haired girl smiled awkwardly. “Think of it as a peace offering. I’ll even help you move it. I don’t think you come from another tribe. Do you, perhaps, live on the mountain?”

Hesitating a little, the black-haired girl slowly nodded. She would allow the other girl a few answers.

“Great, I’ll help you move the deer to wherever you need. It’d be hard lugging this guy up the mountain by yourself!”

Without waiting for an answer, she grabbed the deer by its hind legs and started dragging.

Sighing a little, the black-haired girl grabbed its front legs and took the lead. The other girl walked by her side instead of behind her, sensing that the black-haired girl still didn’t quite trust her.

“Do you have a name?” she asked after a while.

The raven-haired girl shook her head.

“Hmm, well my name is Itari, if you were wondering.”

She wasn’t.

“Do you know sign language? It’d be easier to communicate that way. I had to learn sign language since some elders in my tribe are deaf.”

She nodded. Although she didn’t remember meeting another person before, she knew sign language. It was something she never questioned. Every time she tried searching her memory, things went fuzzy, so she had long since stopped looking for answers.

They walked in silence after that.

When they got to a small stream, the raven-haired girl motioned for them to stop. When Itari looked at her questioningly, she motioned with her hands, _“This is as far as we need to go. I can take it from here. Thank you for your help.”_

Although she looked doubtful, Itari accepted that the other girl did not want to reveal the location of her house to a stranger.

“Alright then. Well, this is goodbye. It was uh, nice, getting to know you, Jade-Eyed Girl!” Itari said cheerfully, with a wink.

Without replying, the other girl merely turned, dragging the buck, and walked on.

This day would end soon anyways.


	5. Chapter 4: Why Don't You Run from Me

She was checking on her fish snares in the sunny afternoon light when she was again alerted to the presence of something _other_ than an animal.

Body tensing and senses alerted, she flicked her throwing knife before she even turned, using the bright, crackling energy of her target to guide her hand.

“Hey, hey, I thought we were over the knife throwing!” Itari’s eyes widened as she ducked the knife. It plunged into a tree trunk with a dull thud.

_“You cannot blame me for being on guard,”_ the other girl’s cool jade eyes took in her companion. No scythe this time. Just the knives and the crossbow.

“Yeah, yeah, I guess it was my fault that I didn’t speak up. I thought you’d be more startled if I said something, though.” She pulled the silver knife out from the tree and handed it to the black-haired girl handle first.

The girl on the mountain accepted the knife yet again, still a little distrusting of the other girl.

_“Why have you come back?”_

“I’ve been thinking,” Itari said. “Since you don’t have a name, maybe I can give you one. I don’t want to keep thinking of you as ‘The Girl on the Mountain,’ or ‘The Jade-Eyed Girl.’”

The jade-eyed girl scowled. _“You didn’t answer my question.”_

“So,” she continued, blatantly ignoring the other girl, “I’ve come up with a name for you: Taniki!”

Itari splayed her arms open, as if waiting for a reaction. The raven-haired girl merely raised an eyebrow.

“You know the meaning, right? ‘Tan’ for river, ‘iki’ for jade, ‘Jade River!’” Itari smiled. “It also ends in the same vowel sound as my name, so we can be sort-of sisters.”

The other girl, now Taniki, just stared at her, trying to discern whether Itari was insane or stupid.

Itari sighed. “To answer your question, I’m here because I was curious. It’s not every day you meet a lone girl living on a mountain, you know?” She idly kicked the ground with her foot, managing to look sheepish. “I guess I was just curious as to how and why someone would choose to live on a mountain alone.”

Taniki’s mouth thinned to a near-invisible line. _“Don’t you have better things to do?”_

Itari rolled her scarlet eyes. “Oh sure, doing chores and training every day. But that’s boring. Especially since my older brother doesn’t even have time to spar with me anymore. Too busy being a chief-in-training.”

These seemed like quite private things to say to a near-complete stranger.

_“You trust me enough to disclose private information about your family and your tribe?”_

She shrugged. “Eh, not like I told you names or anything. Besides, you live on a mountain, who’re you going to tell?”

Fair point.

_“I have things to do. I don’t have time to indulge in your questions,”_ Taniki signed bluntly. They were far too close to her tree house for her liking. She preferred it if Itari didn’t know the location of her home.

“You still don’t trust me?” Itari asked playfully. Taniki just looked at her stoically.

“Alright, that’s fair I guess. But I promise, I haven’t mentioned you to anyone. And I won’t unless you explicitly give me permission.” Itari motioned to the net woven of tree fibers still half-submerged in the river. “I could help you fish. My tribe thinks I’m off on my own gathering and hunting, so might as well bring home some game to make them happy. I’m pretty good at hunting, if I do say so myself.”

_“No.”_

“Please? What’s the harm in it? After all,” she said, “I did help you take down that buck several days ago.”

_“I could have done it myself.”_

“You know he was too far away for you to hit with those knives of yours. Even for someone as talented as yourself,” Itari grinned cheekily.

_“Flattery won’t get you anywhere. We’re wasting time.”_

“Then let’s get to it.” Without waiting for an answer, Itari positioned herself near the river, eyes trained for fish.

Taniki didn’t believe in gods, but she prayed to whatever deity was out there for restraint. It wasn’t often she got this annoyed.

“Got one!” Itari exclaimed loudly, as she pulled a wriggling fish impaled on a crossbow bolt from the water.

_“Be quiet! Do you want to help me hunt or not?”_ Taniki signed rapidly, annoyance growing.

“Oops, sorry,” Itari winked unapologetically. She waved the flopping fish around. “So where do I put this critter?”

Taniki gestured to the woven basket next to her.

Their time fishing was mostly silent. Key word being mostly. Taniki savored the quiet before Itari inevitably opened her mouth.

“Did you make these baskets yourself?”

“Do you do this every day? Seems boring.”

“Where did you learn sign language?”

“Have you lived on this mountain your whole life?”

“Do you live alone?”

Taniki didn’t know why Itari even bothered asking. Her hands were full with the fishing net, so it wasn’t like she could answer.

They caught perhaps a dozen fish before Taniki motioned for them to stop.

_“I need to check my snares now.”_

“Great! I’ll go with you. I need to catch something or else my mother will never let me hear the end of it.”

_Count to ten,_ she thought. _“You’ll need to be completely silent.”_

“Pfft, I can be silent,” Itari dismissed with a wave of her hand. “Oh, come on, I’ve been hunting before, Taniki,” she protested, seeing Taniki’s look of doubt.

True to her word, Itari was dead silent as they walked through the forest. Perhaps not as silent as Taniki’s velvet tread, but quiet enough. _She has a sharp eye,_ thought Taniki, as Itari managed to shoot a young wild pig hiding in a brush. She quickly skinned and gutted it, carrying it over her shoulder.

The first snare they arrived at had nothing. The second squirrel noose had two squirrels, which Taniki skinned and gutted. The third snare surprised both of them, as there were three plump pheasants clucking and running around, distressed, underneath the net.

“Wow, I must be good luck. First the buck, now these,” Itari joked as she helped pluck and gut them.

Taniki merely looked up at the sky and said nothing.

After collecting everything from the snares, the sun was on its downward path.

“Well, I guess I have to go now. Don’t want dear old mum to be worried,” Itari smiled, although it looked more like a grimace.

Taniki motioned for her to wait, then withdrew three fish from her basket.

_“You caught them, it would be unfair for me to keep them.”_

Itari’s eyes widened a little in surprise, before crinkling a little with a smile. “You really don’t like having to owe people, huh? Well, thanks.”

Taniki nodded once in acknowledgement and farewell.

“Guess this is goodbye then. For now, at least,” Itari smirked before turning, the fish and pig she caught swinging a little. “See you later, Girl-on-the-Mountain!”

_Later?_ Taniki thought to herself, exasperatedly.


	6. Chapter 5: Why Do You Care for Me

By now, Taniki was quite used to the appearance of the hazel-haired girl. She would appear in the forest, grinning impishly, now and then to bother her (“Help and grace you with my lovely company,” Itari protested). Sometimes a week would pass without Itari showing up, sometimes Itari would show up every day for a week. Taniki had long since accepted it, adapting to the changes in her life, just like she had done since she was old enough to remember.

Although, previous changes weren’t nearly as _talkative_ as this one.

Itari was a… _bubbly_ person. She chattered more than sparrows in early morning, and no matter how unresponsive Taniki was, she would just keep on talking. Taniki bet Itari could talk to a rock for a whole day without stopping.

Taniki didn’t really mind it that much, though. The other girl was silent when they went hunting, and that was all that mattered. And to be truthful, Itari was pretty helpful as a hunting partner. She had great reflexes, a great eye, and a crossbow that had greater range than Taniki’s knives.

Taniki still didn’t know why Itari stuck around for so long. It wasn’t as if she _didn’t_ have better things to do, if Itari’s stories of her tribe were anything to go on. It wasn’t as if Taniki was particularly interesting to talk to. Most of their visits, Taniki only said (signed) two things: _“Hello”_ and _“Goodbye.”_

Nonetheless, Taniki grew to grudgingly trust the other girl to watch her back while hunting. One visit, she even brought Itari to her tree house.

“Where are we going?” Itari asked, when they didn’t stop at the usual location where they bid farewell. They had caught a massive wild hog that day, and both of them were exhausted from lugging it across the floor.

_“To my house,”_ Taniki signed briefly.

Itari’s red eyes brightened. “Really? You’re finally showing me your house? Cool, I’ve always been curious about where you live on this godforsaken mountain!” she teased.

Taniki shot her a look before quickening her pace, forcing Itari to keep up.

When they arrived at the tree house, Taniki motioned for Itari to move the hog onto the platform. As Itari helped Taniki winch the animal up, she huffed, “I didn’t expect you to have such a detailed system set up. Geez, you must have worked on this for a long time.”

Taniki frowned minutely, because that was another thing. She didn’t ever remember building the actual house. In her memories, it was always just _there_. She remembered building the pulley system to transport her kills up to the tree house, but that was it. _Whatever,_ she thought. _Thinking about it just makes my thoughts go cloudy anyways._

After they were done winching the pig up, Itari asked tentatively, “Can I go up?”

Taniki nodded once.

Making a sound of excitement, Itari scrambled up the tree like an excited squirrel. “I’ve always wanted a tree house!”

Shaking her head, Taniki climbed nimbly up the tree after her. Itari stood on the balcony overlooking the forest.

“Whoa, you have a great view from here. You can see all the way to the ocean!” she grinned.

Taniki joined the other girl in looking at the view. Streaks of butter and hollyhock painted the rapidly darkening sky. The sun flared up in all its glory, determined to give one last surge of energy before submitting to the vast night. If she looked above the soft, pastel brushstrokes, she could see rich navy and indigo swathing the sky, glittering with soft glimmers of stars.

The mountain itself seemed untouched by the golden sheathes of light, trees remaining dark and still. Mist curled around the treetops, giving a cool humidity to the air. Although the sky was warm still, the forest was silent and cool. Unyielding.

Far, far off to the southeast was the ocean. Even from this far away, Taniki could see how the water ebbed and flowed, surging and receding. Its navy waves reflected the warm, pastel colors of the sky, but the light could only hit the surface. Beneath it was a different story.

Suddenly aware of being watched, Taniki turned to see Itari with an obnoxious grin on her face.

She pointed a finger at Taniki, “I saw you smile. You’re smiling.”

Taniki let her face fall back to its neutral coolness.

Itari just grinned wider. “You should smile more. It makes you look like a human and not just a statue.”

This brought a scowl to Taniki’s lips. _“Watch your mouth.”_

Itari flittered around the relatively spacious, orderly house. She lifted the lids of several large baskets, wrinkling her nose at the smell of dried fish and meat. More meat was hanging from the ceiling, drying. Cabinets were filled with dried fruits, greens, and nuts. Yet more cabinets were filled with hunting and snaring materials: ropes, nets, etc.

“I’d say you’re already well-prepared for winter, Taniki.” Her attention was then caught by a small shelf by the woven-grass mat Taniki used as a bed.

“You have books?” Itari plucked one up and leafed through its pages. “ _A Guide to Edible and Medicinal Plants and Herbs_?” she read aloud. “How did you get these?”

Taniki pursed her lips, because that was another one of those fuzzy questions she couldn’t answer.

“Wow,” Itari mused as she flipped through the book, “I didn’t even know you could read. Not,” Itari remedied, panicked, “to offend you or anything. It’s just that you’ve lived on a mountain your whole life and I didn’t know you would have access to...” Itari stopped talking once she realized Taniki had already tuned her out.

She carefully placed the book back onto the shelf. Taking another look at the tidy house, she remarked, “Looks like you have a pretty organized life.”

Taniki shrugged. She made do with what she had.

The sun was almost set, and she had to get to work skinning and gutting the boar. Taniki raised her eyebrows at Itari, as if asking _“Why are you still here?”_

Snapping her fingers, Itari exclaimed, “Ah, I almost forgot. I wanted to ask you to visit my tribe.”

Seeing Taniki’s alarmed posture, which, for her, meant hands immediately on her knives, Itari remedied, “I haven’t told my family or anyone at the tribe about you, I swear! They’re just getting a little suspicious about my ‘hunting trips.’” She made quotation marks around “hunting trips.”

“They won’t like it if I tell them I’ve been hunting on a potentially dangerous mountain alone, so if I brought you to meet them, maybe they’d be less worried?” Itari asked weakly.

_“That’s the most stupid idea I’ve ever heard,”_ signed Taniki in annoyance.

“Hey, you’ve been living on a mountain your whole life. How many stupid ideas have you possibly heard?” sniped Itari.

Sighing, she ran a hand through her hair. “Listen, if you don’t feel comfortable meeting them, you don’t have to, but I would prefer it if you would. I just want you to get to know them. You don’t have to stay for long.” Itari pondered for a second. “One week. One week at my tribe, and then you can return to the mountain. We won’t bother you much after that, although I may drop in to say hello.”

Taniki shook her head. _“Why are you so eager for me to meet your tribe? Why are you even interested in me anyways?”_

Itari blinked. “Is it so hard for you to believe that I want to be your friend?”

_Friend._

That was new.

Taniki lived alone. The mountain was her world, and the animals were her companions. She didn’t have friends.

And then Itari came hurtling into her life like a baby deer, wild and naïve. _I want to be your friend._

_“You want to be friends with an unapproachable, untrustworthy stranger who you found on a mountain?”_

Itari huffed, “Well if you put it that way…”

_“Tell the truth. What do you really want from me?”_

“It’s because you’re so mysterious and strange that I want to be friends. I,” Itari looked slightly embarrassed, “I guess I see you as a challenge.”

Taniki looked hard at her with her unreadable jade eyes. Then, she snorted.

_“You’re insane.”_

Itari pouted. “I like challenges, alright? And I like making friends. I see anyone who doesn’t want to be friends with me as a riddle.”

Glancing outside at the rapidly approaching dark, Taniki bit her lip.

_“Come back in three days and I’ll give you an answer. You should go now. Night is falling.”_

Itari beamed. “Got it, friend!”

Taniki watched her dark form climb lithely down the tree and head down the mountain.

* * *

True to her word, Itari returned in three days. She found Taniki waiting for her in the glen that they usually met.

Taniki’s jade green eyes looked calmly at the other girl for a moment. Itari shifted her weight.

_“I’ll do it.”_

Itari smiled.


	7. Chapter 6: 'Cause This is All We Know

As someone who had never known anything other than the mountain, Taniki was rightfully on edge. A new environment meant unknown dangers, unpredictability. She would have to be on guard at all times.

She had already stored all her dried meat and food in sturdy wooden chests, wrapped up with rope. Taniki hoped the trapdoor and door leading to the balcony would keep out predators, but in the unlikely chance they made it into her treehouse, they probably wouldn’t be able to open the chests and get to the meat. Probably. Most likely. Just in case, she had also set up many hidden snares around the base of the tree and on her balcony. _It’ll be alright_ , Taniki reassured herself.

Brushing a hand over her knives, Taniki tried to calm herself down as she waited for Itari to come fetch her. She had a lion-fur bag, filled with extra clothes, some food, water, a flint, and a gift. Her knives were hooked onto her belt. Itari had told her she didn’t have to bring food or a gift, but Taniki liked to be prepared. The tribe leader might find it offensive if Taniki showed up asking for their hospitality without giving anything in return.

She glanced at the bamboo-leaf-wrapped package, hoping that it would be put to good use. Taniki had opted for utility over decoration, stemming from her own personal tastes.

Closing her pack, she sighed and looked around. No sign of Itari yet.

Taniki shut her eyes, sensing for any other life forms near her. Bugs and small woodland creatures shifted beneath the earth. Birds and other forest creatures flittered around in the trees. Their energies were like pinpricks of light and heat, shifting around in an otherwise dark world. The trees and plants did not burn so brightly, emitting a soft, humming, green aura instead. She turned in a full circle, eyes still closed. Her energy burned brightest of all, pulsing and flowing and whirling like the sea.

There was a prominent energy source somewhere northeast of her location. _Probably a deer or hog,_ she told herself.

Moving from the south was the aura that rivaled her own. Bright and warm and erratic, it jumped in excitement, and perhaps fear. _Itari_.

While Itari’s aura popped in shades of crimson and gold and auburn, Taniki’s aura flowed in shades of jade and cobalt and lilac. Itari’s aura flared and roiled with every emotion she felt. It was why Taniki had decided to trust her, albeit tentatively, when they first met. Itari’s aura had betrayed nothing but concern and wholesomeness.

 _That girl’s aura will be her downfall,_ Taniki shook her head, misty green eyes still closed.

“Taniki!” Itari exclaimed cheerfully (loudly), effectively scaring away game in a one-hundred-meter radius. “Sorry, did I keep you waiting?”

Taniki opened her eyes, annoyance already clouding her face. _“You didn’t have to announce yourself so loudly. I already I knew you were here.”_

“Sorry, sorry,” Itari grins good-naturedly. “You ready to go?”

Seeing Taniki’s deadpan look, Itari quickly said, “That was a rhetorical question.”

As they walked, Itari regaled Taniki with yet _more_ funny anecdotes, such as the time she got grounded for eating whole bag of sugar. _“You’re like a storybook,”_ Taniki told Itari. _“That can never be shut.”_

As they walked further down the mountain, the dense clusters of pine trees became sparse, dotting the landscape here and there. The mist disappeared, and Taniki found it warmer here than up on the mountain. She wiped a sheen of sweat off her brown when they stopped to drink from a stream. Taniki had never been this low down on the mountain before.

 _“You walk all the way up and down the mountain just to see me?”_ she signed.

Itari shrugged. “Eh, it’s just a three-hour hike, no big deal.”

Taniki again questioned Itari’s sanity.

“I mean, mom did give me hell for arriving back home well after dark that day I invited you to visit, but that was the only time I broke curfew coming back from the mountain.”

 _“You should have left sooner,”_ Taniki frowned disapprovingly.

“And miss seeing the mountain sunset? No way!” Itari laughed.

When they finally reached sea level, Taniki’s uneasiness grew. She told herself there was nothing to worry about, that she trusted Itari, but the gnawing sensation in her gut was still there.

Here, the trees weren’t pine, but oak and dove. It was mildly warm, getting close to noon.

 _“How far are we?”_ Taniki asked.

“Maybe twenty minutes.”

Seeing Taniki’s confused expression, Itari’s eyes went wide. “Do you not know what minutes are? How do you keep track of time?”

 _“By the position of the sun,”_ Taniki said, almost defensive.

“Wow okay. So, there are sixty seconds in a minute, sixty minutes in an hour, twenty-four hours in a day, three hundred sixty-five days in a year…”

_“I know what a day and a year are.”_

Itari chattered on about time-keeping mechanisms and how many days there were in a week while Taniki listened (sort of).

Soon enough they reached a flag in the ground. It was colored bright red, and there was a picture, a crest almost, sewn on it in gold thread. It depicted several snowflakes falling, turning into geometric diamond patterns as it neared the rooftops of a village.

“That’s the symbol of our tribe,” Itari explained. “The Yukimura Tribe. ‘Snow village.’ Our ancestors thought snowflakes were diamonds falling from the sky.” She wrinkled her nose. “Dunno why they named the tribe after it, it hardly ever snows here.”

Taniki recalled the white petals falling from the trees as they had walked. _“Maybe your ancestors were referring to those.”_

“What kind of idiots would think that looks like snow?” Itari snorted. “Anyways, the flag means we’re getting close.”

Sure enough, plumes of smoke were visible in the cloudless sky. Taniki could see curved rooftops of houses from here, and the wild animal in her recoiled. Everything in her wanted to run as far away from the houses as possible, but she gritted her teeth and walked on.

The Yukimura Tribe was fairly large, and bustling with people. People were chopping wood, skinning pigs, sewing clothes, welding bronze, pretty much anything you could think of. Taniki’s eyes flew around, assessing potential dangers and exits.

“I can tell you’re looking for a way to escape,” Itari said, rolling her eyes, “it’s fine. No one will hurt you if you’re with me.”

Right after she said that, a young man with bronze skin called out to them, “Hey, Itari, who do you have there?”

“A visitor,” Itari grinned. “I’m taking her to see mom.”

An old man sitting with a bottle of some strong-smelling clear liquid chuckled, “Your mother’s in a foul mood, young mistress. Someone spilled vinegar over the newly traded silk fabric. Best be careful when approaching her.”

Taniki tensed, wondering how to act if Itari’s mother, the chief of this sprawling tribe, was angry.

“Hey, relax,” said Itari, knocking Taniki’s shoulder with her own. “Mom’s _always_ in a bad mood, but she usually takes it out on me or Kiyoshi. Mostly me.”

Taniki’s brows furrowed. _“Who’s Kiyoshi?”_

“My goody-two-shoes brother, A.K.A the chief-in-training.” Itari grinned wickedly. “I should make you two race. _Gē’s_ the fastest runner in the whole tribe, but I bet you could beat him.”

Seeing Taniki’s wild-eyed expression, Itari quickly said, “Or not. You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

The two girls arrived at the largest house Taniki had seen so far in the village. Itari motioned for Taniki to leave her deer-skin shoes at the front step before sliding open the wooden door.

Taniki didn’t know what she had been expecting, but a room bustling with even more traders wasn’t it. She visibly stiffened, hands going to the knives on her belt, before Itari took her wrist and navigated her way through the crowd.

The people parted before Itari, bowing their heads in respect. Taniki’s eyebrows rose. If this flippant, naïve, talkative girl commanded so much respect, she wondered what Itari’s mother and brother would be like. And her father. Itari had mentioned that her father was the head of the tribe’s army.

Itari managed to lead Taniki to the very back of the room, where an auburn-haired woman was arguing loudly and vehemently with a fur trader.

“Fifteen furs for three bronze daggers. That’s my last offer. Or so help me, I’ll stick those daggers up your-” the woman snarled, hands gesturing violently and wildly, just like Itari.

“Mom, _mom!_ ” Itari shouted over the noise of people yelling.

The woman’s head turned so fast, Taniki was surprised she didn’t get whiplash. Her red eyes, the exact same as Itari’s, narrowed.

“What?” she hissed. “I’m busy.”

“I brought the visitor I was telling you about,” Itari hissed back. “Or did you forget ‘cause of your shitty memory?”

“Don’t talk to me like that, ungrateful brat!” the woman, Itari’s mother, screamed.

_It was like watching two lions fighting._

Itari’s mother’s gaze snapped to Taniki sharply. She looked her up and down, before rising to her feet smoothly. She was dressed in a baggy white tunic and sturdy black fighting pants. Quite plain for a leader of a tribe. Her curly auburn-hair was tied back in a ponytail, highlighting her sharp cheekbones and the harsh line of her mouth. She looked like a warrior.

Her qi was one of a warrior’s too. Calculating, sharp, and cunning, her energy spiked and roiled in dark maroon and mahogany.

“We’ll discuss this later,” Itari’s mother said to the trader, eyes narrowing to show she meant business.

The trader in question visibly gulped.

Striding to a screen door, she slid it open violently, stalking into the other room. She didn’t even check behind her to see if they were following.

 _“Do you always speak to your mother like that?”_ Taniki signed cautiously.

Itari snorted. “Of course. If I didn’t, she wouldn’t even bother listening to me. Mom says it’s better to be rude and direct, to show other people that they can’t mess around with you.”

Well, that explained Itari’s straightforward aura and manner of speaking.

“Don’t worry, she only talks like that to family, or people she doesn’t trust,” Itari reassured. “I think she’ll like you.”

 _What if you’re wrong?_ Taniki thought nervously.

“And anyways, _gē_ will be there to, uh, tone down mom’s brash attitude,” Itari rolled her eyes. “He was always the politest out of all of us.”

Itari’s mother led them into a sunlit room, presumably for drinking tea. She sat down gracefully on one of the mats, and gestured for them to sit too.

A servant came in and poured tea for them.

Taniki wondered if they could have drugged the tea, but then discarded the thought. She trusted Itari, and she and her mother were both drinking the tea, so she should be safe.

“What’s your name?” Taniki found herself pinned under the crimson gaze of Itari’s mother. She looked at Itari for help.

“She’s mute,” Itari explained, “but she knows sign language. And she’s lived on the mountain her whole life, so she doesn’t have a name. But I gave her a name. Taniki. ‘Jade river.’”

Itari’s mother raised an eyebrow. “You’ve lived on that mountain your whole life? No parents or family? How did you survive?”

Taniki sipped more tea before answering. _“I don’t remember much of my childhood. My only lucid memories are of age twelve and up. I’ve lived on the mountain for as long as I can remember, and I’ve known how to hunt and survive for that long, too.”_

“And you’ve had no prior interactions with anyone, that you know of?”

_“Yes, that’s correct.”_

“Until my daughter showed up, correct?”

_"Yes.”_

It was at this point when Itari interjected, “Mom, where’s Kiyoshi? You said he would be here too.”

As if planned, a young man slid open the door to the room. “Sorry I’m late. There was a language issue that arose between the traders and one of our people.”

Kiyoshi looked closer to Taniki’s age than Itari. He had tousled auburn hair like his mother, but more wavy than curly. He sported tan skin, like his mother and sister, but with a dusting of freckles, a sturdy, athletic build, and red eyes. They were a darker red than his mother’s and sister’s, and they widened slightly when he took her in.

“Is this the visitor you were talking about, Itari?”

Itari rolled her eyes. “No, it’s our long-lost cousin from across the Lotus Sea. Who else, dipshit?”

“Don’t sass your brother,” her mother snapped.

“You sass me all the time,” Itari snapped back.

 _“Thank you for allowing me to stay at your tribe,”_ Taniki motioned, effectively putting a stop to the argument between mother and daughter.

Kiyoshi smiled, warm and welcoming. Taniki cocked her head, studying him. He was dressed similarly to his mother, and held himself confidently. His build wasn’t extremely muscular, but he seemed light on his feet. Agile. His aura was tamer compared to Itari’s, still painted in hues of red and gold and auburn, but quieter and more stable. He seemed trustworthy enough.

“I apologize for Itari’s rudeness,” he said. “I would say she’s not usually like this, but that would be a lie.”

 _Clever,_ Taniki thought, as Itari protested vehemently. _A way to lighten the atmosphere._

She repeated what she had explained to Itari’s mother to Kiyoshi. He kept his red eyes trained on her, and her uneasiness grew slightly. _What if this is a ruse? What if there’s some ulterior reason for his honest front? No one can be this trusting of a stranger._

“How did you meet Itari?” he asked.

_“I was hunting when I heard her approach. I threw a knife at her, but she dodged. She helped me take down a deer that I had been chasing for a while.”_

“And how many times after that have you seen her?”

_“Maybe a dozen times.”_

Itari’s mother glared. “You said you were hunting in the western plains!”

“So, I told a few lies,” Itari said, shifting in her seat. “It’s not like I was in danger or anything.”

Kiyoshi frowned at her. “What would have happened if you didn’t return? We wouldn’t’ve known where to find you!”

“Well good thing nothing happened to me then,” Itari sniped back. “And anyways, I was with Taniki!”

“We didn’t know that.”

“The past is the past,” Itari waved it off, turning to Taniki. “Anyway, continue your story.”

 _“You shouldn’t have lied to your family to come see me,”_ Taniki reprimanded.

“Oh, not you too,” Itari groaned.

“It’s alright, Taniki, it’s not like you asked her to go visit you,” Itari’s mother said. “I’ll deal with her _later_ ,” she said menacingly. Itari flinched.

Kiyoshi and his mother shared a look. They seemed to agree on something.

The tribe chief smiled warmly. It turned her into a completely different person. She had the same smile as Kiyoshi. “Welcome to the Yukimura Tribe, Taniki. You may call me Orina.”


End file.
